


The Bench Under the Tree

by fanpirex (Kingsy)



Series: Tales of a Teenage Witch [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingsy/pseuds/fanpirex
Summary: Theo has a secret infatuation with know-it-all Granger. He’s decided that it really won’t end well.To see the banner for this ficlet, gohere.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, the first Slytherin I've paired with Hermione. Always figured it would be Draco first but Theo just nudged his way in front.

She was incredibly clever, Theo considered.

She was also the most stubborn and determined person he’d ever seen. Or perhaps it was her pride. She never failed to show pride in herself and her achievements, regardless of the taunts thrown her way.

Yes, he decided, that was why he liked her so much.

He knew he shouldn’t be spending his Potions lesson contemplating why exactly he had a fondness for the mouthy little Gryffindor, and he knew that if he kept staring so intently at the way her hair frizzed bigger and bigger then Draco would undoubtably notice. Not to mention, Slughorn had it out for him already, unfairly because of his father, and would not take kindly to being ignored for so long.

Theo blinked the messy brown curls out of his thoughts and looked at the instructions the professor was talking about in his textbook. Easy enough, he thought, and followed the other students to gather their ingredients.

A soft hand reached for the porcupine quills just as he did, and he stopped as a bolt of lightning scattered up his spine. An apology was mumbled and he said nothing, realising once she had bustled away that he probably appeared quite rude. No loss there though, he internally sighed, grabbing the quills; he had never been outwardly kind to her.

And he wouldn’t start now, he told himself, as he set out his things on the desk beside Draco. His friend was throwing glares in Potter’s direction. Theo glanced over, his gaze falling on Potter’s friend instead.

Hermione Granger was an intriguing creature, but not one he would ever get involved with.

* * *

Weeks later, he still dreamt of her.

Growing aggravated at his subconscious for its lack of control or willingness to comply with his wishes, he dressed for his lessons and made his way to the Common Room. Draco was nowhere to be found, which wasn’t surprising. While he had grown closer to Draco this year, they still spent very little time together outside of class. The Malfoy heir was run ragged, never revealing why, always stressing over something, never rolling up his sleeves as he used to; and Theo knew what that meant.

He walked alone to the Great Hall as was his custom. Occasionally Blaise would accompany him, but never for breakfast. Theo woke much earlier than Blaise, who vastly enjoyed sleep.

Not many students were up at all when he arrived. She was though.

She sat beside Longbottom, eating some toast and getting crumbs all over her hair. He wanted to smile, but refrained. She laughed and something in him leapt with joy too and he so very wished that he was free to laugh along like Longbottom.

This infatuation was certainly a bother; he scowled at his pumpkin juice. What use was fancying someone if you couldn’t express it? He _had_ entertained the notion once, at the very beginning, that he could perhaps tell her of his feelings.

But Slytherins and Gryffindors did not mix, and she had never shown any inclination that she even knew of his existence. The idea passed quickly.

* * *

 He spent most of his time outside when he could, always a book in hand. He may not be quite as smart as her, but he was studious and ever curious. Today he was reading about discoveries of exotic plant life and animals from grand expeditions in the last fifty years. A shadow fell over his page.

Glancing up, he squinted against the strong sunlight outlining the figure before him. But it only took a second to know it was her; he would know her outline come storm or shine, such as today.

“Yes?” he said curtly, wanting to bite his own tongue off. The words rolled sharply between them, and he expected her to scurry away or snap at him. She did neither. She sat beside him.

He watched her silently, his face impassive. Inside, shock overcame him and he stilled his fingers where they had been tapping on his book.

With the sun pouring down on her face rather than her back, he could see her features perfectly. He wanted to turn away. He would only start staring if he could view her so closely in such exquisite lighting. Just as he was about to drum up the will to turn from her, she smiled at him.

It was a shy hesitant thing that twitched at her full lips. His heart thumped loudly. Her eyes were on him and he didn’t know what to do, so without much thought, he handed her his book.

She took it gently, like it was a treasure to hold, and scanned the cover.

“This is a good one,” she said. Her voice was quiet.

He wasn’t sure she’d ever spoken to him directly before; a quick ‘sorry’ didn’t count. He relished in this moment.

“It is,” he replied, his voice smooth. He was suddenly very thankful that they were sitting down. His arms and legs were longer than needed for his body and they always made him fumble awkwardly. Had they both been walking side by side, he was sure he would have stumbled by now. Resisting the urge to clear his throat, he sat up straighter. “Did you require something, Granger?”

“I just wanted to sit.”

“There is ample seating.” And indeed there was. At least five other benches were placed near the one he had chosen.

“This is the best spot,” she smiled, a little wider than before, still just as shy.

He inclined his head to her because she was right. This bench was the best for reading; when the sun hit its highest point and became a nuisance when wanting to see tiny black letters on a page, the tree beside the bench would shelter the book. Behind was a wall that had streams of twining leaves climbing it, allowing those sitting to lean back comfortably with their shoulders cushioned from the stone wall.

He wondered how many times she had sat in this exact spot, just where he was, reading book after book. His neck felt a little warm and he was glad his collar would hide the flush creeping up his body.

“I’ve seen you in the library,” she blurted out and then winced, curling into herself.

Theo almost smiled. He waited for her to continue.

She shifted. “You never sit with anyone.”

“I never stay long enough.” He rarely sat in the library. He preferred to take his books and read in the Common Room or out here. People tended to glance in a Slytherin’s direction, as if suspicious of their activities. It was worse in the library; they clearly expected him to be concocting some horrendous scheme if sat quietly surrounded by bookshelves.

When she didn’t say anything more, he regrettably knew he had to leave. The silences were dragging and he was very close to doing something he shouldn’t. He stood swiftly and went back into the castle. She didn’t follow.

* * *

 He knew she had his book. He had looked for it in the morning and realised he’d left it in her grasp. He would need to retrieve it. He hadn’t finished and it needed to be checked back into the library eventually. He was reluctant to engage her in conversation though, and put off the interaction for as long as possible.

They passed one another in the hallways and shared classes together like usual, but where he behaved like all was normal, she did not. She snuck glances at him every now and then, would smile a little in the corridor when his legs failed him and he nearly tripped over nothing. (He cursed his own body. Though he had grown into his long limbs more, they still didn’t quite suit him.)

In Potions, their hands brushed one another’s more than once and she would always blush and hurry away. One class she even backed into him accidently, her hair tickling his nose, and upon finding him behind her, she squeaked and again hurried away. On this occasion, he paused, wanting to touch his nose, and felt a warmth in his chest.

He wasn’t unobservant. She liked him. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

When time passed and he still hadn’t collected his book, his finally gathered enough courage to approach her. It was sunny outside again and he knew where to find her. Just as he thought, she sat on the bench under the tree, her nose in a book.

Getting closer, he found it was _his_ book.

He stood before her like she had to him and she looked up with a smile wider than any of the others he’d received.

“That took quite a while,” she said.

He raised a brow at her.

Her eyes twinkled with pride and she closed his book.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I've recently started a Tumblr for news and ideas about all of my stories, existing and yet-to-be-written. **Feedback would be fantastic!** So if you want to interact with me more and have input on future decisions regarding my stories then head over to <http://fanpirex.tumblr.com>.
> 
> I look forward to possibly hearing from any of you! There's a lot of story-related thoughts that go through my head and loads of partially written stories still unpublished that I've never mentioned to you guys before, but I'd like to be more open about it all :]
> 
> Thank you for reading my rambles, even if you don't wanna join in, and have a brilliant day!


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